


Something Real

by ExtraSteps



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Banter, Cologne, Dream Smp, Dream is a simp for george, Flirting, Longing, M/M, Manhunt - Freeform, Roadtrip, Slow Burn, dream team, dream's hoodie, flirty snapchats, george goes to america, georgie - Freeform, i'm on half a heart, irl meetings, so much screaming, the face reveal, the hoodie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 07:08:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29398134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExtraSteps/pseuds/ExtraSteps
Summary: Dream doesn't want to just watch George on a screen anymore. He wants to see him. He wants him here, in America, with him and Sapnap, where he belongs.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 23
Kudos: 159





	1. The Manhunt Bet

**Author's Note:**

> My first foray into this fandom. Please be kind with your comments as I continue to write these two together. It is my understanding that at this time both Dream and George allow and play into fanfiction being written about them, and this fic will continue being updated as long as that remains true.
> 
> I have left this fic not rated for now as I'm unsure how far I intend on taking it, but if it moves into more explicit areas I will certainly tag it as such.

“NO!” George screamed at the top of his lungs, bashing his mouse against the desk. “NOOOOO!”

He couldn’t help the wheeze of laughter that erupted from his chest, his finger on the mouse moving it side to side as he grinned from ear to ear, examining the contents of George’s inventory, now scattered on the ground.

“I thought you were popping off, Georgie,” he teased, discarding a few things from his inventory with the ‘q’ button so that he could pick up George’s armour and _oooh_ , ender pearls.

 _This challenge just got so much easier_ , he thought with a smirk. _Thanks, George._

George’s huff of irritation was his only response, followed by sullen silence, and Dream checked his second screen where George’s stream was playing. His eyes lingered on the thick bottom lip jutting out in a pout as George slumped in his chair, resting his chin on his hand, staring blankly off into the distance.

“George?” he checked.

In the game, he was already sprinting off, taking full advantage of George’s distraction to put some distance between them.

“You’re a jerk,” George muttered.

Unbidden, his chest tightened, and it was his turn to swallow down a sigh. He hated seeing George like this. Ever since their plans to meet up had had to be put on hold because of the virus, George had been much quicker to fall into this melancholy state. It was hard to watch his friend suffer like this, to not pull him into a tight hug and assure him that it would all be fine.

The virus had been hard on all of them. As much as they all joked that for gamers nothing had changed, the forced isolation just hit different. Dream was so sick of his own company. He saw his family on occasion, and now Sapnap was living with him, but he missed just being able to go out without a care whenever he felt like it.

So many people he knew had gotten sick, largely thanks to Trump’s policy of burying his head in the fucking sand and letting the virus spread unchecked. As time wore on, Dream had become even more and more of a recluse; getting groceries delivered, exercising in his home gym and wandering the rooms of his house like a caged tiger. He didn’t want to risk it. Getting sick now, when his channel and merch were finally getting some traction, would be disastrous.

It was a large part of why Sapnap had agreed to move in with him. He’d been even more isolated than Dream had, and they’d both talked about how they’d needed _someone_ in order to not go crazy. And yeah, maybe Dream had hopes that one day he could set up a hype house with some of the other SMP members like so many others on Youtube had done, but for now, having Sapnap with him made it better.

George, on the other hand, had no one. He knew that he and Wilbur had met, of course, but it was a long drive between the two of them. For some reason, Brits viewed even a one hour drive as a massive and insurmountable inconvenience.

Dream, who had once gone on a twenty hour road trip with an ex, could only shake his head at the idea. He regularly drove a few hours at a time on various day trips and overnight trips to visit friends and family, or at least he had done before the virus.

He and Sapnap were worried about George. Earlier that day, Sapnap had lingered at his door, chewing at his lip.

“He said he slept a few hours,” Sapnap told him.

“I saw,” Dream had replied. He’d watched the end of the stream as George and Sapnap played Bedwars with Callahan, contemplating joining in. He’d been busy glaring at the dark circles under George’s eyes, picked up even more clearly by his new HD camera, and just as he’d resolved to jump on, George had finished the stream and Niki’s stream had started up from George’s raid. George's sleep schedule, or lack thereof, was very concerning.

“Is there any way?” Sapnap asked, trailing off, voice tight with worry.

“I don’t know,” he’d told him truthfully. “I can look into it.”

“He joked that there wasn’t going to be room for him here,” was the last thing Sapnap said before leaving again, closing the door quietly behind him.

Yes, Dream had heard that too.

Sapnap had scrambled to reassure him, but Dream had just frowned at the screen, confused. They’d talked about George coming here multiple times. He knew that there was room for him. This ridiculous house had like five bedrooms in it.

A few days later, he hadn’t confronted him about it, not yet. He was busy fighting off the deep-set pang of worry that maybe George didn’t want to come anymore and was trying to find excuses to avoid it.

Dream shook off his thoughts, checking George’s screen again. He was back in the game, but he still wasn’t speaking, just speed-running across a plain, an iron sword already clutched in one hand.

“You coming for me, Georgie?” he asked, his voice low and teasing.

“Oh my god,” George groaned, glancing at his chat. “Stop baiting chat, Dream.” Dream checked, and sure enough, the chat was going crazy, with George’s fans shrieking about ‘dnf’ and how flushed George’s cheeks were.

George always blushed when Dream teased him, and it drove Dream _insane_. They’d played this cat-and-mouse game for what felt like years now, always flirting around these feelings that they hammed up for the chat. And sure, a lot of it was just banter and joking around, but Dream couldn’t deny the shiver that went down his spine when George blushed so prettily at something he’d said.

And George gave as good as he got. He was still reeling over George saying that he’d sprayed ‘Dream’s hoodie’ with cologne, pulling it up to his nose and sniffing it. His face had gone hot and he’d screenshot it without even thinking about it, saving it in his secret folder of pictures. Unlike snapchat, George couldn’t tell when he took pictures from his stream, and he’d amassed quite a collection of cute and embarrassing pictures over the years.

Blackmail material, he’d thought of it back then. Now, he could admit he’d been in denial. His feelings for George ran deep, basically part of his personality at this point. His family knew George almost as well as he did at this point at the moment with how much he talked about him.

He scoffed, chuckling lowly as he used a water bucket to make obsidian blocks over a pool of lava in the desert. “You love it, George, don’t deny it.”

“You wish,” George joked. But Dream looked at the stream, flushing as George directed a look down the camera, clearly telling Dream to behave.

George was wearing the hoodie again, he noted. He couldn’t help but wonder the reason why he was wearing it so much, and what cologne he was wearing. He was pretty sure he’d mentioned the cologne he wears to George months ago, but he doesn’t know George’s brand. 

At this point, he didn’t dare to ask. Not when George had made such a point of the cologne thing on his stream.

He scooped up lava in his bucket. An achievement popped up on the screen.

_Dream has made the advancement [Hot Stuff]._

“Dream!” George screeched.

He laughed, quickly finishing the portal and lighting it with a flint and steel. He jumped in.

_Dream has made the advancement [We Need To Go Deeper]._

“Let’s goooo,” he cheered as the nether loaded on his screen.

It was less than a week since the most recent Manhunt had been uploaded onto Youtube, but George had confessed that he’d missed making them with just the two of them, and Dream had been all too happy to comply. It was challenging against four hunters, but playing with George was more fun. His goal was to beat the game within an hour, and so far he looked to be on track. George had killed him in the first few minutes, but they’d restarted, and he was already in the nether.

Of course, he’d paused before restarting, sending George the agreed penalty in the sum of a thousand dollars, ignoring the way George chortled as he checked his bank account on his phone. George had earned it fair and square, and it only made him more determined to get away from him and have a good run this time.

The chat had been curious, of course. They knew from a previous video that he paid out a sum of money when he lost in Manhunt, but they had no idea how much. Or, considering the fact that they pretty much never live streamed these videos, just how often he’d actually paid up.

There was a reason these videos were planned well in advance. They were bad for his bank balance.

But they worked. They were popular with viewers, and they helped Dream to stay sharp and keep honing his skills. It was all part of the master plan.

And George was getting better too. He made less mistakes now, and he knew Dream’s playing style. It’s why even though Dream had killed him less than five minutes ago, he was already hot on his trail in the nether, jeering at him as he leaped after him, the two of them sprinting down the passages of a stronghold.

“Dree _eam_ ,” he sing-songed, getting a hit with his sword and making adrenaline shoot through his body.

“No! George!” he pleaded. “Leave me _alone_!”

He could barely get the words out, laughing the whole time as he skidded around a corner and threw himself over a ledge, placing blocks just before he could fall and making his way around the tower.

“Come here, Dream,” George sang with a wicked laugh, easily trailing him.

On his way past a group of zombie pigmen, he tagged one with his axe and then immediately started towering up. George cursed as they immediately targeted him, and Dream wheezed with laughter as he towered back up to the fortress, pleased to have a bit of breathing room.

He made his way straight to the blaze spawner, killing and blocking their attacks as he kept half an eye on George’s screen as he fought off the pigmen and began towering up after him. He didn’t have much time, so he dug underneath the spawner and placed bricks over himself, squatting to hide his name from view.

George searched for him, scowling at his screen.

“Oh my god, you’re already out, aren’t you?”

He laughed in response, watching as George started pelting off in the direction of the portal. With just the two of them, they’d opted out of using the compass, so George had no idea where he was.

Dream waited until George was out of sight and climbed back out, killing off the blazes that had spawned and examining his inventory. With the pearls he’d already collected from George’s body and the blaze rods he’d farmed, he already almost had enough. 

On his way back out, he exchanged some gold for more pearls from a piglin, watching as George mined a vein of iron ore, a furnace lighting up his screen.

_GeorgeNotFound has made the advancement [Suit Up]._

Dream was wearing the leather chestplate and gold boots that George had found in a village chest. George in full iron was a threat that he’d need to be wary of.

He paused back in the over world, carefully scanning for George. He was trying not to check his stream too often, knowing that he had an unfair advantage over his friend. But he hadn’t been able to help himself. He loved watching George’s reactions, something that he missed out on during the manhunts with no face cam. 

And his face was so _expressive_. Even when his brow was furrowed in concentration, he was captivating.

Dream checked his own stream, who were screaming at him to run, so he assumed George must be nearby.

“What?” George exclaimed suddenly, drawing his attention unwittingly back to his stream. “Oh my god! You were still in the nether?”

Dream burst out laughing, seeing George’s character bounding towards him from the nearby birch forest. 

“Chat,” he scolded through his wheezes. “No dobbing to George.”

“ _Yes_ chat,” George encouraged them. “Where is he?”

Of course, he hadn’t stood still. He’d sprinted off towards the desert, tracking the ender eye he’d flung up into the air. He swore as an arrow hit him from behind, weaving side to side as George tried to snipe him from afar.

“Stop!” he laughed, towering across a ravine, jumping across the last few blocks, helped along by the impact of George’s arrow. He was on half health, and paused a second to munch on a steak, using 'F5' to check how close George was.

“Dream, I’m gonna get you,” George yelled, leaping over the ravine using his blocks. Dream laughed and dodged him, making the crouch jump back over to his last block and walking backwards, destroying the dirt he’d placed, leaving George stranded on the other side.

“NO! DREAM!” George screamed, immediately trying to shoot him again, but Dream just dodged side to side, walking backwards the whole time as he taunted George with how close he’d come to killing him, munching on yet another steak.

“Better luck next time,” he cheered, following the ravine to the right and firing off another ender eye.

He found the stronghold without much difficulty, though he was conscious of George hot on his heels. For a moment, he contemplated placing a trap, but there probably wasn’t enough time. George would still be wary though, and his caution should give him at least a minute in the end.

Dream was determined to win. They’d made a bet, an open ended one. Whoever wins can make the other do or say anything they want. The stream didn’t know, of course. If they did, he would have joked about getting George to say he loved him on stream, but he had something else in mind. Something better.

Something _real_.

“Georg _ie_ ,” he taunted, filling the portal with his spare ender eyes. “I’m setting a trap for you.”

“You are not,” George scoffed.

“I am,” he assured him, the smile clear in his voice. “Even better than the last one.” 

He still grinned every time he remembered the _explosive_ ending of their last Manhunt.

_Dream has made the advancement [The End?]._

On George’s screen, his eyes were narrowed as he approached the portal room, crouching with his shield in front of him protectively. 

“What has he done, chat?” George muttered.

‘ _Nothing!_ ” they screamed at him, urging him on, but George was far too suspicious. It took him more than thirty seconds of careful searching, as well as setting a spawn point with a bed before he would even consider entering the portal.

_GeorgeNotFound has made the advancement [The End?]._

By that time, Dream was already most of the way through destroying the crystals, expertly shooting them down with his crossbow and killing endermen as he went. With his stockpile of ender pearls, buckets of water and a crossbow stocked with a decent amount of arrows, George didn’t stand a chance of catching him.

For once, he decided he wasn’t going to target George and kill him. He was just going to draw it out and tease him, eliciting those screams he loved so much as George failed to catch him.

“Come _here_!” George growled, pearling after him and descending on him from above, sword in hand.

“Nah,” he chuckled, immediately pearling again as the dragon settled down on the pedestal, getting a few hits on him and chipping away a quarter of his health. George hit him once and then he was off again, sprinting around the map and shooting the ender dragon as it spiralled through the air.

It was the most fun he could remember having in ages, his cheeks hurting from laughter and smiling so damn wide. It was lucky that no one could see his face right now. He probably looked deranged.

George came close to killing him a few times, at one point leaving him on half a heart as Dream pearled away, managing to place water down before he landed just in the nick of time. He ate a few steaks quickly, sprint jumping away.

“I was on half a heart, Georgie,” he joked. It was a meme now, and both chats went nuts as George groaned a laugh. He was pretending to be annoyed, but he could tell that George was enjoying himself as well. A grin kept tugging at his lips every time he got close to Dream, and his cheeks were flushed with exertion.

But as much as Dream tried to drag it on as long as possible, the dragon’s death was inevitable. George groaned as Dream cheered.

“YEAHHHHHHHHHH!” he screamed, landing the final blow from afar with his last arrow, the dragon splintering into beams of purple light. “LET’S GOOOOOOOOOOO!”

_Dream has made the advancement [Free the End]._

After more laughing and banter, they both ended their streams but stayed on chat.

“Alright,” George said after a few moments, sounding resigned. “What do you want?”

“Aw, don’t be like that George,” he said, unable to hide the fondness in his tone. “I’m not going to make you wear a maid dress or anything.”

George groaned out a laugh, and Dream leaned back in his chair, grinning. Instead of answering, he rubbed at his chin, considering.

“What were you going to ask for?” he asked George, unable to push down his curiousity.

“It hardly matters now,” George muttered. He sounded embarrassed, and Dream leaned closer to his screen, as if he could somehow crawl through it and see George’s face, see into his soul, maybe.

“It does,” he said firmly. “Tell me.”

George sighed again, and he didn’t need to see his face to know that he was sinking back into melancholy again. Dream’s heart sunk.

“It’s been years,” George said instead, “and the most I’ve seen of you is your hands.”

Dream smiled at the thought of how many teasing snapchat’s he’d sent George, the frequency of them only growing as time passed. Of him sticking up his middle finger, or making a heart with both hands, or making an 'ok' sign. He’d teased George about his hand fetish, because the Brit had screenshotted every single one of them, but George just brushed him off each time with a laugh.

He got it though. He was obsessed with George too. And he was lucky that he got to see him any time he wanted.

Many times, he’d thought about just opening up video chat on discord, or facetiming him. It wasn’t a big deal, he’d reasoned with himself, it was just George. But something had stopped him every time. A voice in his head whispering ‘ _not yet._ ’

“You’ll see me when you come and visit me,” he pointed out.

George huffed. “Yeah, sure,” he complained. “Like that’s happening anytime soon.”

Dream smiled at that, his heart racing. It was time. “Sooner than you might think,” he said slowly.

There was a long pause.

“ _What?_ ”

He’d promised Sapnap he’d look into it. He was pretty sure he’d figured it out.

“One of the very few legal reasons to enter the US right now is work,” Dream explained, staring intently at George’s name on discord. “I’m offering you a job.”

“You’re joking.”

“Not about this,” he said gently. “I can draw up all the paperwork, offer you a position as a coder and editor. You can live here, and I earn more than enough from Youtube and Twitch and merch to pay you a decent wage.”

He wished fervently that he could see George’s face.

“Dream,” George said, his voice wavering. “That’s a lot more than just a visit.”

“I know.”

“That’s- that’s long-term.”

“We could start with a six-month contract,” he suggested gently, the hope burning bright in his chest. “I’ll pay for everything. The tickets, the visa application, the covid tests and quarantine, all of it.”

George sniffled, and Dream’s eyes widened. “Hey no,” he said urgently, kicking himself for rushing into this like this and dumping it on. It was too much. “Please don’t cry.”

The sniffles turned into a watery laugh, and Dream strained to hear.

“That’s what you want for your bet?” he asked, spluttering and sounding shocked and amused. “You want to give me a job?”

Dream frowned. “Yes,” he said, the uncertainty bleeding into his tone.

George sighed again, but it sounded fond now. “You’re ridiculous,” he said, the smile clear in his voice. “Alright, a bet’s a bet, I guess. Let’s figure it out.”

“You mean it?” Dream asked, eyes wide.

George laughed at him. “Yes, Dream. I accept.”

“SAPNAP!” Dream screamed.

In the background, he could hear George’s laughter getting louder as Sapnap barrelled into the room.

“What? What is it?” Sapnap demanded, looking panicked.

“GEORGE IS COMING TO AMERICA!”

“LET’S GOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Sapnap screamed, launching himself across the room.

They grinned at each other, jumping around like idiots, yelling at the top of their lungs and completely ignoring the fact that it was some ungodly hour. His neighbours were used to it.

This right here, this made every single moment of hard work worth it. He was going to see him.

He was going to meet George.


	2. The In Between

Just because the decision was made, didn’t mean that George could suddenly magically appear in Florida, no matter how much he might wish it so. Dream had to draw up the paperwork and get it checked over by a lawyer, getting himself registered with a business license. Then George needed to apply for a work visa, and jump through all of the hoops that that entailed. Then there was the problem of his flat and all of his belongings which had to be packed and sent to America.

The point was, Dream had to _wait_.

He wasn’t known to be a particularly patient person.

In the meantime though, he and George were talking even more than ever, planning everything out with Sapnap. All three of them were excited at the prospect of living together, though they hadn’t let on to any of their friends or their fans. They were still very much conscious of the fact that the virus could take a turn for the worse again and that George could be turned away at any time.

Dream didn’t plan on making any announcements until George had actually physically set foot on American soil.

Maybe not even then. He was a possessive son of a bitch, and he wanted to keep George to himself for as long as possible.

Well, he’d share him with Sapnap. Probably.

George seemed to be doing better as well, sticking to a semi-regular sleeping pattern. He’d even managed to join in on a lore stream, not piking out before it like he normally did. The bags under his eyes were far less prominent on stream now, which made Dream’s chest feel a bit lighter. He was going to be fine. Everything was going to be fine.

Which is when, of course, they hit their first hurdle.

“I told my parents,” George confessed over voice chat. No one else was online. It was very late in America, and very early in Britain, so most of the SMP was asleep. Both of them were in bed, on chat just for the company and only occasionally breaking the comfortable silence.

“Oh?” Dream hummed. “What did they say?”

George sighed. “They think it’s dumb.” 

That made Dream frown, shifting restlessly. Patches gave a disgruntled meow from his side and shot off the bed. “Because of the virus?”

He heard a rustling sound as George moved in his bed, and he rolled onto his side as well, looking down at his phone, resting on his second pillow. He’d put in there when he’d climbed into bed, because it made it seem like George was speaking into his ear, like he was lying right next to him.

He waited for George to speak, feeling his chest tighten with anxiety, closing his eyes and wishing that he could see his expression right now.

“I don’t know,” George said eventually. “I think because I already have a job here, they don’t see the point in it. They’ve never really understood the whole Minecraft thing.”

“You have six million subscribers,” Dream pointed out incredulously. “That’s not pointless.”

“Well obviously _I_ know that,” George said with a quiet laugh. “They just- think it’s a phase, or something. Like I’m still a dumb kid. They want me to get a _real_ job - whatever that means.”

Dream rolled his eyes. Coding was a real job. George made a fair bit of money freelancing on the side with a whole range of companies, not to mention what he made from streaming and merch. He was taking off, the same as Dream was. He’d had a million subscribers at the start of 2020. Now he was just shy of six million.

“I guess they just want you to be successful,” Dream said slowly. “I understand that. But think about it this way. You’re growing so fast online, and I think that this move will only make that growth accelerate.”

George hummed his agreement, staying quiet. Dream went on.

“Like, I’ve dropped most of my side projects to just focus on Minecraft now, because it’s bringing in more than enough money.”

“Which is why you can just waste five thousand like it’s nothing,” George said, sounding amused.

Dream’s chest fluttered as he remembered how it had felt watching George scroll through amazon for his video, putting things in his cart that Dream was paying for. So many of their followers had joked after that, calling him George’s sugar daddy. He could see the appeal. 

Every time George referenced that little elephant or his scooter, or his computer or something, it made him feel warm and tingly.

“It wasn’t a waste,” he said, trying and probably failing to keep the serious tone from his voice. “I liked doing it.”

George gave an awkward laugh but let it drop. Dream just smiled, snuggling further under his blanket. George had been talking for ages about how he needed new parts for his streaming set-up. It just made sense to give him the money, and making it into a video only gave him a legitimate reason to do it.

“I told you, George,” he said after a few long moments. “I’m bringing you with me. You and Sapnap.”

“Dream team for the win,” George said. And Dream didn’t need to see him to know that he was smiling. He could hear it clearly in his voice.

“ _Exactly_ ,” he agreed. 

He grappled with the next thing he wanted to ask, trying to get the wording just right.

“Do you-” he frowned. “Would you still.. want to come? Even if your parents don’t support it?”

George laughed at that. “I’m twenty-four, Dream. I don’t need their permission.”

“I know,” Dream said, frustrated suddenly. “I know that. I just-”

“I already said yes,” George interrupted him, sounding confused. “Do you not want me to come anymore?”

“No!” Dream reassured him. “No, that’s not it at all. Of course I want you to come. I just, I don’t want you to like, ruin your relationship with your family over it.”

“They’re not going to stop loving me because I move overseas,” George said, his tone exasperated. “And I think they’ll be fine. Like, we talked about it, and I explained why I’m going, and they don’t get it, but they support me.”

The tension in Dream’s body released. “Okay,” he said simply.

“Okay?”

He hummed. “Okay.”

They moved on to other subjects, both of them getting quieter and quieter and the silences stretching out longer and longer. Dream was fighting his heavy eyelids, listening intently to every slight noise coming from the phone. He didn’t want to fall asleep. He just wanted to bask in this comfortable silence, in hearing George’s even breaths as he slipped into sleep, in knowing that he wasn’t alone.

Dream dozed like that for a while, eventually letting the soft rhythmic sounds of George’s breaths lure him under.

When he woke up, the call had ended, mostly due to the fact that he’d never plugged his phone in and it was dead, but he still woke with a smile on his lips, feeling well rested.

He plugged his phone into the charger and got up, surprised to find Sapnap in the kitchen, munching on a bowl of cereal.

“Hey,” Sapnap said, nodding in acknowledgement.

Dream glanced at the clock, amused to see that it was after midday. “Cereal at one in the afternoon?”

Spanap just shrugged, not looking bothered. “Yeah _and?_ ”

“Nothing,” Dream said, shaking his head and opening up the fridge to pull out some juice. “Doing anything today?”

“Streaming with Bad and Karl a bit later,” he said. “Pretty much it. You?”

“I might jump on chat with you guys maybe,” Dream said with a shrug. “But nothing in particular. I’ll probably just be editing and maybe chat to Wilbur and Karl later about some lore stuff.”

“Cool,” Sapnap nodded, rinsing off his bowl and placing it alongside the seat. “I won’t have my facecam on, so if you need to pop in, you can.”

“Thanks for letting me know,” Dream said with a smile. 

He had to admit that it had been a worry of his when he’d invited Sapnap to live with him. They’d spent a lot of time talking about boundaries. Dream wanted to do his face reveal on his own terms, not from accidentally walking into view of Sapnap’s stream.

Although, the devil on his shoulder had whispered that it was one way to ensure that Sapnap went viral and got as much attention as he and George were. He still hadn’t entirely discounted the idea.

But for now, Sapnap was always careful to angle his camera away from the door and tell him anytime he was going to be streaming, especially when he was using his face cam.

He appreciated how cool Sapnap was being about it all.

After eating some food and filling Patches’ bowl, he went into his room and booted up his computer. He spent a few hours editing his most recent video, losing himself in that. By the time he took a break and went to make a snack, Sapnap was already streaming, running around in the end with Bad in creative mode. Clearly not in the SMP, then. They were both chatting, something about some tweet Bad had sent, and Dream joined in on ribbing him while he ate.

His heart leapt when George joined the call.

Sapnap’s chat went insane, spamming George’s name and Dream smiled, leaning his chin in his hand and listening to George’s voice.

It was different, during the day. At night, his voice was quiet and fond, low in Dream’s ear as they talked about everything and nothing. But during the day it was bright and sarcastic as he joined in on the teasing.

He sounded good though. Hopefully his sleep had been as good as Dream’s had been. Dream went and retrieved his phone, turning it on. He had a few tweet and discord mentions and notifications from his friend’s Twitch and Youtube channels, as well as DM from George.

_~~Good morning._

He rolled his eyes, expression fond. Only George would call nine o’clock at night the morning. The message was from twenty minutes ago, and Dream closed discord, sending a Snapchat instead, the frame catching his lips turned up in a smile but not much else. He sent it, listening intently for George’s reaction.

Karl and Sapnap were bantering, but Dream still heard when George audibly gasped. He grinned, waiting for the inevitable.

“DREAM!” George yelled, interrupting their friends.

“What? What did he do?” Sapnap immediately asked. Chat demanded answers as well, and Dream chuckled as George practically hyperventilated on voice chat.

“Are you _kidding_ me right now?” George demanded, and Dream only laughed harder.

“Do you want me to go and hit him?” Sapnap asked, his curiosity clearly killing him.

“Don’t you dare,” Dream warned him, getting the words out through his wheeze of laughter.

He watched on Snapchat as George screenshotted the picture, grinning as George muted himself on voice chat. His phone started ringing immediately.

Dream muted himself, accepting the call.

“You can _not_ do that!” George shrieked at him.

“Do what?” he asked, feigning innocence.

“Just send photos like that.” He was clearly flustered, and Dream grinned, looking through his computer and imagining how red George probably was right now. On the stream, he could hear Sapnap vowing to go and get to the bottom of what was going on. Karl was jumping around on his screen, barking like a dog, and Dream heard Sapnap barrelling towards his room.

He laughed even harder as Sapnap burst through his door. “What did you send to him?” Sapnap demanded.

“Just a photo,” Dream wheezed. In the background, George was loudly complaining about what a dumb jerk he was, calling him a muffinhead and every name under the sun. 

“George, send it to me,” Sapnap yelled. “I know you screenshotted it.”

“He did,” Dream confirmed. “It wasn’t even a big deal. I didn’t even send my whole face.”

Sapnap’s phone buzzed and he opened the snapchat from George, then looking up at Dream with a smirk.

“Oh my God, Dream,” he teased. “I didn’t realise you were _so_ into George.”

“What?” Dream screeched.

“Sending him a picture of your lips?” he laughed. “Seriously? Why don’t you just _kiss_ him already.”

George was laughing, and Dream hung up on him, rolling his eyes. “Yeah yeah, laugh it up.”

“You _looove_ George,” Sapnap sang, laughing at him. “Oh my god, you’re blushing, you do, you do!”

“Piss off!” he yelled. “Get out of my room!”

Sapnap cackled, taking off back to his own room. He rejoined the voice chat, laughing hard. 

“What was it?” Karl asked. “What did he send?”

“Why don’t you tell them, Dream,” Sapnap snickered. “What did you send Gogy?”

“Nothing!” he protested, unmuting himself. “It was nothing.”

George was still muted, and chat was going wild, speculating at what he’d sent. 

“Shall I tell them, Dream?” Sapnap baited. 

“No!” he protested. “It doesn’t matter anyway. It wasn’t even that interesting.”

Sapnap just made kissy noises at him, and Dream huffed. He wasn’t really annoyed though. It was just banter, like always. As much as he wanted it to, it didn’t really mean anything. George’s silence was worrying him though. He fired off a text.

_~~You okay?”_

George responded within seconds.

_~~I’m just waiting for you to send other parts of your face so that I can paste them all together into one picture and figure out what you actually look like._

Dream laughed at that, and the others immediately jumped on it. He deflected, and soon they were back onto teasing Bad and George unmuted, joining in. All the while, Dream kept exchanging messages with George. 

_~~Like a puzzle piece, right?”_

_~~Exactly._

_~~Should I send my left eye next? Would that turn you on Georgie?_

On voice chat, George choked and Dream burst out laughing again. This time, the questions were a lot more pointed, and donations started flying through chat, followers spamming Sapnap with money as they asked pointed questions that Dream expertly danced around.

He was used to it. This was the game they played.

George responded after a few minutes.

_~~I don’t think my heart could take any more surprises today._

He smiled at that, locking his phone. No, that was enough for today. But soon. 

George got used to this new level of teasing eventually. It made Dream’s heart race, because this wasn’t for clout, this wasn’t on stream to get views. It was just between them, and George’s returned pictures started to reflect this flirtier tone. Dream sent a picture of his right eyebrow, and George screenshotted it, and moments later, George had sent a picture of his fingers pulling aside his hoodie, showing the pale skin of his collarbone.

Dream had stared at it, mouth running dry and heart racing. He’d screenshotted it, of course, staring at his screen, squirming and ignoring George’s teasing over it. It hadn’t escaped his notice either that he was wearing Dream’s hoodie. George seemed to be practically living in it.

It made him feel possessive, like maybe he was justified in feeling how he did about George. Like maybe he felt the same.

George called him on voice chat half an hour later.

“It’s all coming together,” he said proudly.

“What is?” Dream asked absent-mindedly. He was building on the SMP server, helping Karl and a few others add the finishing touches for the next night’s lore stream.

“Your face,” George told him. “I only have a few more spots to fill in.”

Dream paused in his building, glancing at his second monitor. “Show me,” he demanded.

George must have anticipated the request, because he sent the picture over their private message. He’d clearly been working on it in Photoshop, and Dream was impressed at how seamlessly he’d already managed to piece together seven different pictures.

“Not bad,” he conceded.

“Does it look like you?” George asked, sounding curious.

“Well _obviously_ ,” he said, rolling his eyes. “It’s made up of pictures of me.”

George huffed. “Yeah, but I could have got the proportions wrong.”

Dream pulled up a photo of his face and compared it to what George had put together. It was easy to spot a few small errors, but it wasn’t enough to stop him from being recognisable. He was still missing a few parts, but if George was standing in front of him right now, he was pretty sure the Brit would know him instantly.

It made his hands shake a little bit.

It’s not that he was ugly. He was just a normal looking dude, really. He’d kept his face hidden on Youtube mostly to protect his family, especially his younger sister. He’d done a lot of research before starting up his channel, and he was wary with any information he gave out. With his younger sister being sixteen, he didn’t want to put her in any unnecessary danger or increased attention. If any of their followers were able to find her on social media, they’d bombard her day and night for information about him.

However, as much as he knew he could probably trust most of his friends on the SMP, the more photos of him there were out there, the more likely it was that his identity would be outed. 

But the closer it got to George being in America, the more he realised that his anonymity was coming to an end. Dream didn’t want to completely isolate himself from the outside world, but the three of them together would be too obvious. Any time he left the house with him would be dangerous, and it would only be a matter of time before their picture was taken and posted online. 

He’d need to do that face reveal sooner rather than later, and George deserved to see him before he revealed himself to the internet.

Impulsively, he made a decision.

“Why don’t you check for yourself?” Dream asked.

George choked. “ _What?_ ”

“Yeah, let’s video chat right now,” Dream suggested, his tone teasing.

“You’re joking,” George said, his voice flat.

Dream smiled. “Try me.”

“ _Okay_ ,” George drawled suspiciously. He dropped out of the voice chat, and Dream left as well. Moments later, his computer started ringing with an incoming video call request. He left his camera off but accepted it, waiting for it to connect and George’s face to pop up on the screen.

Dream tapped a few buttons, starting a screen recording. He had a feeling he would want to keep this.

“I knew it,” George said, frowning at him through the screen. “You were joking.”

“I’m not,” Dream told him. He waited a few moments longer, carefully watching George. He looked nervous, his hands tangled in the string of his hoodie and biting at his lip. He was so cute.

“Are you ready?” Dream asked him, starting to smile.

“Yes!” George burst out. “Hurry _up_ , Dream!”

He laughed at that, his finger hovering over the video button. George groaned again and he wheezed, having to take a minute to calm himself down at his friend’s obvious impatience. 

Years of friendship, and here they were. The big reveal.

It was time.

Dream took a shaky breath and then nodded.

“Okay,” he said. And clicked.


	3. The Reveal

It took a few seconds for the screen to refresh. When it finally connected, George’s eyes widened, and Dream couldn’t help but smile, even though bile rose in his throat, threatening to overflow at any moment.

“Oh,” George said, his voice quiet and shaking slightly.

Dream’s smile turned to a grimace. “Hi,” he said awkwardly, fluffing a hand through his hair self-consciously. It felt so weird to be seen.

George shook his head slightly, his expression dazed. “Uh. Hello,” he replied.

In the many years that they’d been friends, nothing had ever felt more uncomfortable than this moment right here. Dream wanted to crawl under his desk and hide, because it felt like George’s eyes were boring into his soul, stripping him bare.

“Am I dreaming right now?” George asked, his voice strangled. He was bright red, and his eyes kept roving over Dream’s face, drinking him in.

He couldn’t help but jump on that, falling into old patterns, _deflect deflect deflect_ , his lips turning up slightly in a smirk and chin falling into his left hand. “I don’t know. Do you often dream about me, George?”

George gave a startled laugh. “You idiot!”

Dream laughed and George's expression changed, a little frown dipping between his eyebrows. 

"This is so weird," he muttered, echoing Dream's thought. "Now I know what you look like when you laugh."

Dream squirmed a little, trying to keep a poker face, but the way that George was staring at him was putting hooks in his chest, ripping it open and exposing him. He'd never been more vulnerable and open with him than this.

Part of him couldn’t help but wonder if George was disappointed. "Is it what you expected?" Dream asked, flicking his fingers towards his face with an air of nonchalance he definitely didn’t feel.

George hummed, flicking his gaze between his two monitors and clicking with his mouse. Dream cocked his head slightly, confused.

"Your eyes are a little bigger," George muttered, still clicking.

 _Adjusting his puzzle_ , Dream realised. He rolled his eyes.

"I didn't expect you to get it as close as you did," he told him honestly. "It was pretty good."

George shot him a dry look, speaking volumes. _Bitch please._

Dream chuckled, turning away as Patches rubbed against his leg. He picked her up, holding her against his chest and nuzzling into her fur. He looked at George, his heart stuttering at how _fond_ he looked, his lips turned up in a small smile and his eyes shining.

“Hi Patches,” he cooed. Dream’s smile was hidden. _God_ , George was cute.

He picked up one of Patches’ paws and waved at George, who continued to speak softly to the cat, promising lots of hugs and kisses when they met. Dream pouted.

“Why does Patches get all of your kisses?” he demanded. “Where’s mine, George?”

“Oh my god,” George groaned, rubbing at his bright red face.

Dream let Patches jump down and leaned closer to the camera, exaggerated his pout. “Geeeeorge,” he whined.

“Dream!” George said, his voice getting higher. “Stop _looking_ at me like that.”

He smiled, even as his heart was pounding in his chest, pulling his microphone closer. “Just tell me you love me, George,” he said in a low, gravely tone, holding eye contact with the camera.

There was silence for a few long moments, and when he flicked his eyes to look at George on his screen, it was to find him chewing at his lower lip, looking unsure.

“I thought-” he said eventually, his voice shaking just a little. “I thought it was just a bit.”

Dream frowned, pushing his microphone away and sitting up straighter. “What do you mean?” he asked.

George licked his lips nervously, looking at the camera and then away. Just that quick look into his eyes made Dream’s chest freeze. “The like, flirting and stuff. I thought it was just for the stream?”

Technically, Dream was recording this. But he hadn’t even been thinking of the stream just then. He’d been thinking of making George blush more, about pressing a hand to his cheek and feeling the warmth he could see, the heated flush put there by _him_.

He pushed those possessive thoughts aside, considering George. He didn’t want to reveal too much, right now. There was always that fear in the back of his mind that if he told George how he really felt that their friendship would be ruined, and he didn’t quite know what to say. Even if he actually _wanted_ to confess, he would want to do it in person, not with a screen between them.

“Sorry,” he said eventually, giving George a sheepish grin. “I guess I got a little carried away.”

George tilted his head slightly. “That’s not really answering the question,” he pointed out.

Silently. Dream cursed. George had always been far too perceptive for him. They were getting too real for the funny recording he’d planned, although he’d probably just cut it off near the start anyway. He wasn’t comfortable putting _everything_ out there. _Not yet._

“No,” he agreed mysteriously, “it’s really not.”

“You’re not going to answer me, are you?” George asked him, his voice sounding suspicious.

Dream smirked. “Nope. Maybe I’ll tell you in your dreams tonight,” he teased.

George groaned, smacking his hand into his face and swiping it down. Dream laughed at him.

He asked George a question, effectively ending the conversation, and before too long they were jumping on Minecraft, filming their first ever video together with both face cams running. They’d decided to re-do one of their old videos, but this time the audience would be able to see all of Dream’s reactions as well.

As they played, Dream and George continued to flirt and argue and kill and help each other in equal parts, and Dream had to catch himself multiple times, trying to wrestle his facial expressions into some form of order. He couldn’t keep making heart eyes at his screen just because George was flirting with him. 

But he made it so _difficult_. His dark eyes kept creeping to the side as well, drinking him in, and Dream was nervous under his appraisal. He kept making dumb mistakes, which George teased him for, and the more flustered he got, the more George pushed it.

He paused the game, unscrewed the lid of his water bottle, gulping down the cool liquid. George just smirked at him, pushing that one bit of hair that always swept onto his forehead back over, his eyes glittering with amusement.

“Getting a bit hot and bothered there, Dream?” 

“Shut up,” he grumbled, swiping at his mouth and closing the lid of his water bottle, setting it aside. George looked pleased, resting back in his chair and staring at him with a smug grin. Dream narrowed his eyes.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Georgie,” he warned him, unpausing the game and punching George’s character.

George raised his eyebrows, pretending to look surprised before immediately smirking again. 

“Am I, _Clay_?” he asked, tilting his head and looking straight into the camera again.

“ _What_?”

His face spasmed, his throat going tight. George calling him by his real name never ceased to affect him. The problem was that now the other man could see exactly how flustered it made him.

George laughed, and Dream sighed, jumping off of a ravine and falling to his death. 

George’s laughter only got louder.

He rolled his eyes, pretending to be annoyed, but really he was just overwhelmed. He wanted to close his eyes like he had so many times before, and just let George’s teasing voice sink into his bones, making him feel warm and weightless. 

“Oh Dreammm,” George sang into his microphone. “Dreamieee.”

Dream ignored him, letting his head thunk down onto his desk. 

George didn’t let up for a second.

“Oh Clayyyyy,” he said, his voice getting huskier. “Come on Clay, show me that pretty face again.”

He made a strangled noise. This was _murder_. He knew without a doubt that George was trying to kill him. Probably would, at this rate. His heart was pounding in his ears, making him feel faint and shaky.

“ _Stop_ ,” he whined.

This wasn’t for the video anymore. George was giving him a taste of his own medicine, his voice practically purring through his headphones. 

And Dream was beyond flustered by that. Not only from the way he was teasing him and what he was saying, but also the sheer confidence he was exuding. Like he had a direct link to the thoughts running through Dream’s mind.

“You’re unbelievable,” Dream muttered, pushing himself back up reluctantly.

George’s eyes drank him in again. He looked happy, and Dream couldn’t help whatever his face was doing at that moment. He just knew that it was unbearably fond.

“You love me,” George shrugged, turning back to the game, a smile dancing on his lips.

Dream bit back a sigh. 

_Yeah, he really did._

***

The flirting only intensified from there, both on and off stream. On one particular stream, George laughed as Dream pretended to call his mother, complaining that George had broken up with him. The Valentine’s Day thing was just a bit, but he couldn’t deny that part of him had been hoping George would say yes. He’d even started a draft in his notes doc for a Minecraft date, one that would be far better than the one George had gone on with Minx after ‘Love or Host.’

A few days later, a donation had caused him to “confront” George over it, until George had hummed thoughtfully, muttering “maybe next year” and making Dream’s heart stop.

_Maybe next year. Not yet._

Fuck, couldn’t George just _be_ here already?

They’d both laughed about it after, because of course they both knew that they actually were going to be making a video for Valentine’s Day, although of course it was for Smajor’s Youtuber Escape Room, not exactly a romantic date.

Still, it made Dream strangely nervous when he joined the server a week later. It was technically the day before Valentine’s Day, not the actual day itself, but it still made his hands feel a bit clammy.

The “couples” were listed on the wall in the waiting room, and he and George chatted while they waited for a few of the others to go through their run. They were both deafened in the call so that they wouldn’t get any spoilers, and it was sort of boring sitting around staring at the wall.

“What’s your favourite kind of chocolate?” George asked out of the blue, his chin propped in his hand. They’d both decided to facetime while they waited, and George had propped his phone camera up using a tripod, and was typing on his computer as well. Dream had been watching him, so it took him a few long moments to realise that George had spoken. It was still weird to him that he could see him as well now. He kept forgetting.

“Huh?”

George looked at him, and Dream felt his cheeks heat. He cocked an eyebrow at him, and Dream looked sheepish.

“Sorry, what was the question?”

“ _Simp_ ,” George coughed, looking amused. 

Dream huffed, but waved at him to ask again. 

“I said, what’s your favourite kind of chocolate?”

He hummed thoughtfully. “I don’t know,” he said with a frown. “I don’t really eat much chocolate, if I’m honest.”

“Okay but like, if you were going to buy something nice for someone else, what would you get?” George pressed.

Dream shrugged. “I usually buy my family like Hershey’s or whatever.”

George wrinkled up his nose. “Hersheys? Really?”

“What?” he protested defensively. “They like it.”

“You’re such a basic bitch, Dream,” George laughed. “At least get them good chocolate.”

“Like what?” Dream asked him, curious despite himself. “What kind of chocolate do you have over there?”

“Well we have like a Celebrations box with mini Mars Bars, Twix, Malteasers, things like that, and they’re pretty good,” George said. “But when you want to get a fancy gift, most people go for Thorntons.”

Without thinking too deeply about what he was doing, Dream typed it into his address bar. He scrolled down their page, eyes catching on their Valentine’s day selection. 

Personalised chocolate gifts. The picture showed a chocolate in the shape of a heart, white white icing saying ‘love you,’ on it. He smirked, clicking on the shop now button while still paying attention to what George was saying.

“Roses selection boxes are fancier than Celebrations, but they don't really taste as nice,” George mused, fingers still tapping away on his keyboard. “Oh, I guess Lindt is pretty good too, especially the white milk chocolate.”

It was Dream’s turn to wrinkle up his nose. White chocolate was far too sweet for him; he’d never been able to eat more than a few bites of it. 

“I don’t mind Lindt actually,” he agreed, “my sister got a big box of them last year and it had like the whole selection of them. I liked the hazelnut ones the most.”

He chose one of the white chocolate options from the Thorntons website, clicking personalise. He had to enter a message, and he frowned, fingers hovering over the keys as he hesitated.

Was it gay to send your best friend chocolate for Valentine’s day?

Well, probably, but it was _George_. And he knew he’d like it.

 _Fuck it_ , he thought, eyes flicking to George and back again, typing out his message.

_Be My Valentine. Dream x_

It fit within the 30 character limit, and he smiled as he paid for it and typed in the delivery address. George had given it to him the same time that he’d given him his phone number, though unlike with his number, he hadn’t had reason to use it before. He paid for express delivery, biting back a smirk as he pictured George’s face when he received it.

It was going to be hilarious.

“Are you guys ready, George and Dream?” Scott asked, interrupting their conversation.

Dream undefeaned. “Yep, let’s do it.”

Both of them were teleported into the starting room. The walls were quartz and the floor was pink and red, with sea lanterns above illuminating the two holes in the ground. Dream stood next to one, while George moved over to the other, crouching as he peered down.

Scott explained the rules, and they both agreed to them.

“3… 2… 1… Go!”

Dream dropped into a red room, the walls covered with levers and buttons. A pink glass heart allowed him to see George’s room was the same.

“Alright, there’s golden pressure plates all over the floor,” he said, jumping around the room.

“Oh I can see you too,” George said.

“Let’s find what’s different.” Dream suggested, eyes flicking between their rooms.

“I have a button here that you don’t have,” George said, his character gesturing to the wall with the door.

“Um, interesting,” Dream mused, looking around the room once more.

“Wait, what does your ceiling look like?” George asked.

Dream dismissed that. They were the same. He ran over the pressure plates, an idea forming.

“What if you stand on your right pressure plate. I’ll stand on the right one.”

Nothing happened. 

“No, nothing.”

Scott unmuted. “I love seeing how people’s brains work for these things,” he said, sounding amused.

Dream didn’t respond, his mind racing as he looked around. He was competitive, and so was George. They wanted to get the fastest time possible and prove they were the best. They didn’t have time for idle chit chat.

“Shall we just flick all these levers?” George asked, already doing it. “There, I flicked them all.”

“Wait,” Dream said, heart jumping as he realised his door was open. “Mine’s open.”

“Wait, what?”

“Which one did you just click?” Dream asked, running over to the window and watching George.

“Pull all your levers,” George told him. “Just click them all.”

Dream rolled his eyes “Yeah, but it could be a specific order.”

“Just keep going! Just keep going!” George urged him. “Just keep going! Just click them all!”

George’s door opened. “Okay, let’s go!”

“There we go,” Scott laughed.

The next obstacle was a maze with roses and invisible barriers. The two of them figured out quickly that they had each other’s path on the ceiling, and used it to quickly navigate through the maze.

“That’s the smoothest I’ve ever seen anyone complete that,” Scott said after Dream successfully got George through the maze, sounding impressed. Dream smiled, peeking through the windows to complete his side, quickly moving down to the end.

They made a good team. They always had.

Again, the next obstacle was easy. Their carpets corresponded with the heart they needed to jump through safely, and Dream smirked as he safely landed in the water, and George laughed.

He glanced down at his phone, where facetime was still running, showing George grinning at his computer. They both navigated the painting maze with ease, but of course their perfect run was immediately ruined by George, who darted off the pressure plate through the open door, slamming Dream’s door in his face.

Scott laughed while George grumbled under his breath, being teleported to the beginning to navigate back to the same point as quickly as he could.

Dream just smiled as he watched George. “I waited for you, George. I was waiting for you,” he said, pretending to pout.

George shot a scowl down at his phone and Dream bit back a laugh, winking at him. 

This time, they both got through the pressure plate at the same time, jumping into the water and appearing in the final room.

Dream was suspicious. While it looked like fairly simple parkour, he wouldn’t put it past Scott to place barriers everywhere just to fuck with them. Surprisingly, it was safe though, and they both jumped through to the end and pressed the button, setting off a huge display of fireworks. 

George sounded surprised. “Oh wait, we did it? We popped off!”

He bantered back and forth with Scott, but Dream didn’t say anything, his eyes glued to George’s pleased smile, his heart fluttering in his chest. George eventually caught him looking and stuck his tongue out at him, which made both of them crack up laughing.

In the end, they didn’t get the fastest time, which went to Joel and Lizzie, but it had been a lot of fun so Dream couldn’t be too mad about it. 

George still teased him after they left the call with the others though.

“So on a scale of one to ten, how mad at me are you for sabotaging our perfect run?” he asked, picking up his phone and taking it with him, smirking at Dream.

“At least eleven,” Dream snarked back, rolling his eyes. 

“I’ll make it up to you,” George said confidently, the light from his fridge opening illuminating his face.

Dream raised an eyebrow at that. “Will you now?” he asked.

George hummed his agreement, pretending to be nonchalant, but Dream could see the tinge of pink to his cheeks. For all of his cockiness, he knew that George was getting just as flustered as he was.

How was it fair for one person to be so attractive?

“Dream?” George asked.

His eyes were dark, staring at him from the screen, and Dream swallowed thickly. 

“Yeah?”

“What would you want?” he asked him, expression unreadable. “To make up for it?”

“You want to know what I want?” Dream clarified.

George nodded, licking his lips.

It made him shiver as a sharp pang of want went through him like an electric shock. He wanted to be there, to pull George in and press him against the wall, to claim his lips in a wild kiss and finally run his hands through his ridiculously fluffy hair.

He wanted to feel the flush of his cheeks with his fingertips, wanted to trace over his lower lip with his thumb and pull it down, lick into his mouth to taste him properly.

He wanted to hear the noises George made when he kissed his neck, to feel his pulse racing against his lips as he pressed open-mouthed kisses to his pale skin.

He wanted _everything_. He wanted it so badly that he _burned_.

Saying any of those things would completely blur all lines between them. Would prove once and for all that this was more than just casual flirting. 

Which was a stupid thing to think, when he’d just bought George chocolate for Valentine’s Day, but it still scared the shit out of him. He wanted so badly to make a joke right now, to deflect like he always did, but the way George was looking at him right now gave him pause. Why was he controlling his expression so carefully?

“A hug would be nice,” he said eventually.

Not exactly a real answer, but not a joke either. He’d love to be able to hold George in his arms and squeeze him tight, to hide his face in his hair and breathe him in until his lungs were only filled with his scent.

George’s breath hitched. “A hug?”

“A proper one,” Dream said with a faint smile. “A real hug.”

Slowly, George smiled. It lit up his whole face, making Dream’s chest tighten with strong emotion.

“I think I can do that,” he agreed gently, flushing and dropping his eyes, looking pleased. 

Dream pressed a hand to his own cheek, a little shocked at how warm it was. 

Later that night, lying on his bed and staring up at the ceiling, he was still flustered. He’d wanted George for such a long time, but this felt like it was morphing into something else now, something deeper, something that might actually last.

George couldn’t come to America quickly enough.


	4. Be My Valentine

Dream woke up late, the sun already streaming through his blinds as he sat up and stretched. He sat there for a few long moments, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and pushing his hair away from his face. 

It had taken a long time for him to fall asleep, but once he had, he must have slept like the dead, because he felt well-rested for the first time in recent memory.

He grabbed his phone, unlocking it as he got out of bed, walking out of his room and down the hall. Immediately, Patches started winding herself between his legs, meowing insistently and he smiled, leaning down to stroke a hand through her fur.

“Morning princess,” he cooed, scratching under her chin as she led him straight to her empty food bowl. He picked it up and started preparing her breakfast, knowing from experience that she wouldn’t give him any peace until her belly was full.

He pet her again as he set the food bowl down, before heading back to the fridge to find some food of his own.

It wasn’t until he was sitting down on his couch that he finally checked his phone.

Twitter was going crazy. The number one trending item was _#bemyvalentine_ and Dream’s heart stopped. He typed in George’s username, groaning as he checked his most recent tweet.

It was a picture of the chocolate he’d sent him, because _of course_ it was. George had captioned it ‘The punishment for the delivery guy waking me up for this at 8am is the whole internet finding out what a simp you are @dreamwastaken.’

Dream grimaced. _Shit_ , George had been awake pretty late last night. He was probably fuming at being woken up so early.

He checked his messages from George, but instead of an angry tirade, there was only a single love heart, sent four hours ago. He wasn’t online now, so Dream assumed he’d probably gone back to bed and was completely unaware of how completely he’d broken the internet. 

There were numerous tags from their friends spamming question marks and tagging each other, and their fans were screaming in all caps, but all Dream cared about was that one little blue heart.

He smiled fondly, rubbing his thumb over his screen. Without thinking about it too much, he sent a green one back.

The first few hours of his day were spent on the couch watching streams he’d missed while he was sleeping, and scrolling through Twitter. He was feeling lazy, and during Karl’s stream he dozed off on the couch, Patches purring where she was tucked in under his arm.  
It wasn’t until Sapnap wandered in and started throwing candy at him that he woke up, blearily noting that the sun was going down as a piece of candy bounced off of his forehead.

“Seriously?” he grumbled, swatting away the next one Sapnap threw, glaring over the top of his couch at him.

Sapnap just smirked at him, sticking a piece of candy into his mouth.

“You were snoring, dude,” Sapnap told him. “I was just trying to see if I could get one in your mouth.”

“I bet you were,” Dream drawled, raising his eyebrows at him.

Sapnap went pink and it was Dream’s turn to smirk as his friend spluttered, trying to explain himself. “The candy, Dream!” he yelled. “I meant the candy!”

“Sure, sure,” he teased.

“Oh my God,” Sapnap groaned. “You’re the _worst_!”

Dream wheezed with laughter, getting up and walking over to his friend, pulling him into a tight hug and patting his head. “There, there, Sapnap. It’s okay.”

“Asshole,” Sapnap muttered into his chest, his voice muffled by Dream’s shirt.

It didn’t stop him from squeezing back though, or giving him a happy smile when Dream released him. 

“I’m streaming soon,” Sapnap told him. “Wanna come sit in and hang out?”

“Sure,” he agreed easily. Talking all night with George had made him feel a bit lonely for actual human contact, and he liked the idea of cuddling up next to Sapnap while he played CS:GO or something.

The two of them gathered some snacks, and Dream dragged his blanket into Sapnap’s room. 

When Sapnap had first moved in, they’d realised quickly how few chairs there were in Dream’s house. Certainly none that were comfortable enough to sit in for hours at a time. They’d purchased Sapnap a gaming chair, but Dream had also bought a reclining chair for the times when he was just chilling.

He pulled it over next to Sapnap and curled up in it, watching drowsily as his friend booted up his computer.

“You’re not going to fall asleep again, are you?” Sapnap teased him.

“Nah,” Dream said with a soft smile. “I’m just getting comfy.”

Sapnap started his stream, singing along to Roadtrip like he always did, and Dream sang along as well, laughing as he saw the chat spammed with comments of “Dream?!?!” 

“Yeah sing it, Dream,” Sapnap cheered with a laugh, smiling at him.

The two of them fell into a comfortable rhythm, bantering and answering questions. Dream had to dodge quite a few pointed ones about George and the chocolate, but he didn’t really mind. The ball was very much in George’s court, so he’d wait to see how to Brit wanted to play it.

He didn’t have to wait long.

“Oh hey, Gogy is calling me,” Sapnap said, his phone flashing on the desk beside him with an incoming facetime from George. “Should I answer it, chat?”

The chat spammed ‘yes’ in the chat, begging him to answer, so Sapnap paused his game to pick up the call.

“I’m live, I’m live,” he said quickly before George could open his mouth.

Dream leaned in closer to Sapnap’s side so that he could see George as well, his heart fluttering madly in his chest. George was wearing his clout glasses, looking smug.

“I know,” he said. “I was listening.”

“Oh?” Sapnap asked. 

“Yep,” George said. “The fans are wondering about why you’re such a simp for me, Dream. Why aren’t you answering them?”

“George!” Dream gave a startled laugh, groaning and dropping his head on Sapnap’s shoulder. Sapnap just laughed at him.

“Yeah, Dream, answer the people,” Sapnap said, smirking at him.

“ _No_ ,” he said stubbornly, pouting when Sapnap pushed him off and passed him his phone, starting up his game again.

“Go on, Dream, tell stream how much you _love_ me,” George teased.

He opened his mouth to make a joke about it, like he always did.

George held up the chocolate, looking at him through his lashes as he took a bite, licking his lips and humming. “Mmm, it’s so _good_ , Dream,” he purred.

He couldn’t take his eyes off of George’s lips, and was suddenly very, very glad for the blanket he was enveloped in as all of the blood in his body rushed south.

“Remind me,” George said, sounding amused when Dream gave no reply, “when was it that I told you I liked white chocolate? Was it a while ago, Dream?”

“No,” he reluctantly admitted.

“That’s right,” George exclaimed. “It was last night, isn’t that _right_ , Dream?”

He sighed. He knew exactly where George was going with this. “Yes.”

George pretended to look thoughtful, tapping his chin with one finger. “So between last night, and eight am this morning, you bought me fancy, personalised chocolate and paid for express shipping, just to try and convince me to be your Valentine?”

Beside him, Sapnap was snickering, offering no help whatsoever. Chat was eating it up, and Dream could do nothing. His entire face was aflame, and he had never been more glad that Nick wasn’t using facecam and that the only people who could see his face right now were his two best friends.

He sighed again.

Sapnap smirked. “That wasn’t a no, chat,” he pointed out.

George took another bite of his chocolate, smirking at him through the phone. It was the purest form of torture. He loved it.

Time to turn the tables.

“Okay,” he said. “Yeah, fine. I admit it. That’s exactly what I did, George. So, what’s your answer?”

George looked surprised, tilting his head to the side slightly.

“My answer?”

“Will you, George, be my Valentine?” he asked, moving the camera closer to his face and staring directly at him.

George went pink. Dream smiled like a shark, all teeth.

“Come on, Georgie,” he said, his voice low. “Here I am, putting myself out there, and you can’t even give me an answer. Three times I’ve humiliated myself online for you now, so what do you say?”

The other man gaped at him, and then suddenly his face shut down, his jaw tightening.

George’s previous words floated through his mind. _I thought it was just a bit._

He didn’t want it to be a bit anymore.

Suddenly, he rose to his feet, stealing Sapnap’s phone and striding out of the room, ignoring Nick’s startled “ _hey_!”

He flopped onto his own bed, pulling the blanket back around him like a burrito, holding George in his hands and looking at him. His heart ached as he looked at him. He wanted nothing more than to reach through the phone and cup one of his heated cheeks, soothe the burn away with the pad of his thumb.

“Sorry,” he said quietly. “That was too far.”

“It’s okay,” George said, giving him a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I started it.”

“Still,” Dream shrugged. “It’s fine that you don’t want to be my Valentine, really. I just thought the chocolate thing would make you laugh.”

“You didn’t mean it, then?”

George studied him, his expression shuttered. He could be like this sometimes, closed down so completely that Dream had no idea what he was thinking. His own spasmed into something he couldn’t even hope to control.

“I always mean it,” he said, struggling to get the words out, his throat tight. 

“Do you?” George asked him.

Dream looked at him. The mask was cracking slightly. George had set down the chocolate and was looking back at him, dark eyes boring into him.

He was so used to joking around, to it just being banter, but the way George was looking at him stole his breath away. It was intense, serious in a way that Dream wasn’t used to.

“Yeah,” he said, nervously wetting his lips with his tongue.

“You joke around a lot, Clay,” George said, his voice quiet but even. “Especially about us dating.”

“I know,” he said, nodding slowly. “I guess I’ve always been like that. It’s like, a defense mechanism or something.”

“From getting hurt?” George asked gently.

He nodded tightly, suddenly unable to meet George’s eyes. It was too real now, too serious. He burned to laugh it off, to act like it didn’t matter.

But it did matter. It mattered _so_ much.

“You’ve been keeping it light for a long time,” George said after a long, thoughtful pause. “I thought it meant you were just messing with me.”

Dream huffed, looking back up at him and giving him a baleful expression. 

“George,” he said, unable to keep the fond exasperation from his tone. “You live in another country.”

George just smiled at him, and finally it had reached his eyes as well. They twinkled with mirth.

“Not for long,” he said, triumphant.

Dream’s chest clenched tight, the intense wave of need washing over him like a tidal wave.

No, it wouldn’t be long at all. Soon, he would have George right in front of him, and he’d be able to act on these feelings that had him so twisted up. He wouldn’t have to keep swallowing down the confession that sat in his stomach like lead.

He’d be able to hold George in his arms and squeeze him tight and just never let him go again.

“I can’t wait,” he said quietly, offering George a shaky smile. George smiled in return. 

Dream could tell that they both had things that they wanted to say, but it wasn’t time for them just yet. 

“We can joke on Nick’s stream,” George said, cheeks dusted with pink. “I promise I don’t mind.”

“I’m not going back in there,” Dream said dryly.

George tilted his head. “Why?”

“Either I have to say that you rejected me again,” Dream said with a roll of his eyes, “or you’re pressured into saying yes. It’s not exactly ideal.”

“So what, you just want to keep them guessing?” George asked with a laugh.

“Yeah,” Dream smiled. “Fuck ‘em.”

***

A donation popped up on the screen. “How was Patches birthday?” he read out.

“It was good,” he said. “It was good. I will say I slept, like a lot. I slept like most of the day, so like, I mean that was my Valentine’s day. See, I had a date but it was with sleep, so.”

He was on a just chatting stream, answering questions while trying to beat a new game in Minecraft. He wasn’t speed-running exactly. He’d just woken up early for a change and with both of his best friends asleep and nothing better to do, he’d decided to stream.

Surprisingly, there were only a few pointed questions about George. There were a few about Patches birthday, or light teasing about it being discount chocolate day, but it was just a chill stream, which suited him perfectly. 

Maybe he should stream earlier more often, when a large chunk of his fandom were in school or at work.

There was one donation that made him blush a little, asking when they were getting more George pics. They were obviously referring to the ones he’d posted of George in his hoodie, showing off the fit, but it made Dream think of the many, many photos he had squirreled away on his phone and computer, of George looking fond, or sad, or happy, or blushing. 

There were _so_ many of him blushing. And more recently, the flirtier pics of George biting at his lip or looking at him with those dark, knowing eyes.

“Yeah, I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t know. I guess I’ll have to secretly take more and then I can - maybe I’ll release them.” He was careful to make his voice sound disinterested and unaffected, immediately latching onto the next donation and talking about the super bowl, but it still took a good few minutes for him to stop blushing.

God, if his chat had _any_ idea how easily he blushed, he’d never get a moment of peace from them.

After chatting a bit longer, Tommy popped in briefly to say hello and not long afterwards the chat started spamming George’s name.

“There’s no chance George is here,” he dismissed them. “People are just spamming his name.” He hadn’t seen his name pop up in chat at all, and there were no messages on his phone from him either. Normally, George would text him as soon as he woke up.

A donation popped up asking him about breaking up with someone, and he frowned at his game while trying to answer it as diplomatically as he could. It meant that he completely missed George typing his name in chat, and later when he was mining iron, George asking him why he was slow running.

“Guys you’re not gonna fool me,” he said with a roll of his eyes as they started spamming George’s name again. “You’re just gonna literally keep saying George. I know it, I know it. I can tell.”

Another glance at his phone, just in case, told him that George hadn’t messaged him.

A minute after the second lot of spamming, his phone actually started ringing. “George just - George is facetiming me,” he said to chat. “I’m gonna pick up. One sec.”

He kept half an eye on his stream as he answered. “Hello, you’re on stream,” he said before George could say anything. “You’re on stream, hello.”

“Why don’t you think I’m here?” George asked him. He was propped up in his bed, hair messy and eyes lidded, still half-awake.

“Well, now I think you’re here,” he said. “I didn’t think you were here until you called me.”

“I’m here,” George said with a pout that was far cuter than it had any right to be.

“Okay!” he said, rolling his eyes at him.

“Why are you slow running?”

Dream shrugged, looking at him and meeting his eyes. “I don’t know, cause I just needed something to do.” 

He glanced back at the stream, conscious of the donations still rolling in. He answered one, telling George he was hanging up on him and placing his phone down.

Immediately, he felt bad though, but he felt self-conscious with George’s sleepy eyes on him while he was talking to the chat.

“I’ll call George on discord, maybe,” he said to the chat, glancing over to his second screen where discord sat alongside his stream overlay. He set it up, telling George that he could join if he wanted through the stream.

“He’s going to scream as soon as he joins,” he muttered.

Sure enough, not even a minute later, he heard the sound of someone connecting, followed immediately by a scream.

“I knew you were gonna do that,” he smirked. “Welcome.”

“I wasn’t going to,” George argued.

“ _I only did it because you said I was going to_ ,” Dream mocked.

“I _wasn’t_ ,” George insisted. “It wasn’t even on my mind.”

They both spent the rest of the chat replying to donations and bantering together. It was comfortable, Dream sinking into the familiarity of it, a smiling tugging at the corner of his lips. 

The thing was, he could so easily picture this exact same situation, except instead George was draped over his bed, playing on his phone and reacting to donations. He glanced to the side where his bed was, biting back the sigh of longing that wanted to escape, his stomach fluttering.

He was brought back to the stream by a donation, which asked yet again about George denying him. This time, he had no second thoughts about playing into it.

He slammed his mouse down. “George, alright listen,” he began, George laughing audibly in the background. “Just explain your reasoning for denying me. You have to at least give me a reason.”

“What did you even ask?”

“I just asked you if you’d be my Valentine,” he grumbled.

George laughed. “You didn’t mean it.” Unlike the night before, George’s voice was light, his amusement clear. It was nice to banter like this with him, to know that for now they were keeping it casual and fun.

He still looked back to his bed though, imagining George pushing himself up onto his elbows to argue with him.

“Why not?”

“What do you mean, _why not_?” George asked.

“You can be my Valentine,” Dream insisted. “It wasn’t a joke.”

“Um yeah, you didn’t mean it,” George said dismissively.

“Yeah no, I meant it,” Dream said with an exaggerated sigh. “I one hundred percent meant it. I one hundred percent meant it.”

“ _Okay_ ,” George drawled. “So, what does that mean exactly? Being my Valentine?”

“You would just be my Valentine,” Dream shrugged. “That’s it.”

“And then what happens?” George asked, sounding curious now.

Dream could feel his heart racing in his chest. They were joking, sure, but again something in his chest was clenching. He was so sick of not being able to see George, to have to try and guess what he was thinking from the tone of his voice.

If he was actually here, then he’d be able to see the expression on his face, his body language, his eyes.

“I mean, nothing,” he said. “You’d just be my Valentine.”

“Oh okay,” George said airily. “Maybe next year.”

_Not yet._

“I mean, if you mean it,” Dream said, voice just a touch snide. George let out a huff of laughter, and the conversation immediately moved on. Dream glanced at his chat, flushing a little at some of the comments being made. Many were scolding them for pandering to the chat and getting their hopes up, but quite a few were cheering him on as well, asking if they were official or telling him to get his man.

If only he could. But despite them ticking all the right boxes, all of their paperwork filled out, George’s visa organised, and a large chunk of George’s possessions packed and ready to be shipped, Dream was waiting to purchase the flight tickets. They were expensive, and with laws being changed what felt like daily, he was conscious of the fact that George could be turned back at any point.

And he couldn’t shake the horrible, nagging feeling that if George got turned away from America, that that would be it. That his friend would give up.

So, until he got the absolute, _one hundred percent_ green light, he was waiting.

His mind wandered, and his responses to the donations he was receiving got quieter, with George filling in a lot of the silences for him. 

It wasn’t a very long stream, less than two hours, but he made sure to sound a bit chirpier as he signed off, thanking his loyal fans and ending the stream. He stayed on the call with George, running a hand through his hair and sighing.

“Are you okay?” George asked him, his voice quiet and serious.

He couldn’t help but smile at that. So many people said that the friendship between him and George and Nick was all just for clout. None of them, not a single one of their fans or haters, had any idea. 

George was so caring, always checking in, always able to tell when something was wrong. Some days they stayed on call for hours and hours, just enjoying each other’s silences, occasionally sharing memes or talking quietly. 

And it was the same with Sapnap, who even though he was younger than both of them, always tried to cheer them both up, so loyal and supportive and sweet.

Dream loved his friends, both of them, with all his heart.

“Yeah,” he said, resting his chin in his hand, smiling fondly at his computer screen. “I just can’t wait for you to be here with us.”

Sapnap would be all over George, hugging him at every opportunity, the same way he did with Dream. He’d brag about Patches liking him more and he’d try to slip hot sauce into all of George’s food and he’d bully him into getting enough rest and eating properly. 

Quietly, George sighed. There was as much longing in it as Dream could feel ballooning in his own chest.

“Me too,” George admitted. “Soon, right?” His voice wavered, and Dream closed his eyes, listening to his unsteady breaths.

“The second I get the go ahead,” Dream promised, “that ticket will be yours.”


End file.
